Unintended: A Tale of Clumsy Matchmaking & the Value of Custom Boots
by yoru no ame
Summary: When the Royal Council of Advisors plots to pair Prince Syaoran with a local girl (which girl, they care not), they had no idea their scheme would lead to the prince's bodyguard finding his perfect match as well. An AU Kuro/Fai Cinderella inspired story with Clamp crossovers right and left.
1. Prologue

Prologue

Only recently, in a land our brave dimensional travelers have not yet had the pleasure of visiting, there has been a growing hubbub in regard to a certain series of events sponsored by a certain royal family. Said hubbub has manifested itself, in general, as a giddy but competitive demeanor amongst the kingdom's young female populous, which, on occasion, has descended into fits of name-calling and other general rudenesses as well as outright uncivilized behavior.

Just one day prior, a small group of schoolgirls had purposely wrecked a classroom so that the one assigned to that day's cleanup duties would not be able to make it to the fabric merchant's shop before closing – and this, on the scheduled day for new arrivals from a neighboring kingdom renowned for its beautiful cottons and linens. She was pretty enough already, they said. She didn't need the first pick of materials.

Instructors in the schools have noticed a decline in grades, even among the most dedicated of students. One such student by the name of Sakura, has maintained her cheerful and kindly disposition – having remained apart from the petty feuds of others. The decline in her marks has been a result of her daydreaming more than anything else.

Having met the prince briefly on more than one occasion in the past, she finds herself looking forward to the upcoming festival more than she has anything in her remembering. Some of the girls in her classes have been whispering of marriage and heirs and what it would be like to be a princess. Sakura only thinks of how it might be nice to see that boy, the young prince, once again.

The festival is only the first in a long series of events designed to allow the prince to socialize with girls his age, the idea being to avoid the disaster they encountered with his brother, the new king. For as well educated as he is and for as genuinely concerned with the kingdom's well being as he is, he has already announced to the Royal Council of [already overly paranoid] Advisors, that he has absolutely no intention of taking a wife and would not, under any circumstances, be producing an heir.

Rumor around town was that he had fallen in love with another man and as nice as that was, for every person who would commend him for staying true to his heart by refusing both wife and concubine, another would say that he is shirking his responsibility. "A country needs to be certain there will be someone to inherit the rule should the unthinkable happen," they would say as though the King didn't have a perfectly capable brother, young though he may be.

The Council blamed themselves for this turn of events, thinking that if he had only met a nice girl early on, he wouldn't have "resorted" to someone of the same sex. Let it be known here and now: the Council is not known for their brilliance, but for their zeal, which they hold in great quantities and are overly generous in spreading to others.

It took little time for their ploy to pair off the young prince to become known to the public and even those who realized the ridiculousness of the reasoning were not opposed to the idea as a whole. An event would be held once a month for as long as it took for the Council to be sated with the fact that the prince would be falling in love with a woman. There was no need to rush the boy to pick someone right away; he is only 15 after all. They only wanted to be secure in the feeling that someday (hopefully soon (the sooner the better)) Prince Syaoran will be able to pick himself a wife.

Seeing as nearly everyone enjoys festival, picnics, concerts, dances, and other such entertainments, the plan's popularity spread like floodwaters after the annual spring thaw. There is however, one man among all the population that does not enjoy such frivolities and his name, though you might have guessed, is Kurogane, one of the more senior guards devoted to the protection of the prince.

In Kurogane's viewing, the whole scheme is rife with the opportunity for someone to get hurt. He can picture it clearly in his mind: hundreds of village girls descending in hordes on his charge. The kid was liable to be trampled to death, suffocated in the commotion, or at minimum, lose his hearing from the doubtless high pitched squealing those girls were sure to suffer upon the entirety of the kingdom.

It is with this pessimistic attitude that he prepares himself – and the prince – for the upcoming event as though it were battle.

The young Miss Sakura, briefly mentioned earlier and mentioned now because it is time to introduce the final character in this story, is a member of the formerly great house of Kinomoto. Both the master and mistress met with an untimely death at the hands of a freak card accident and ever since, it has been the responsibility of their lone child to uphold the estate and the name. Thankfully for her, she is not entirely alone. Just prior to their ends, the master and mistress took into their employ a traveling man who seemed unusually adept at keeping their child out of harm's way.

Said traveler had intended only to earn enough money to move on to the next kingdom, a few short months at the most and he would be gone, for he was after all, a traveler by trade, but when the poor girl's parents had died, a surge of maternal instinct had welled up inside him. He decided then that he would stay and watch over the sweet child until she was capable of caring for herself.

Though Sakura was the head of the house and as such, responsible for the making of all decisions, she often sought the wisdom and council of Fai, our intrepid but gentle natured journey-man.

On this night, the night preceding the first festival, Sakura seeks such advice. "Fai-san, all the girls of the kingdom will be there. Some have already planned the wedding but I just want to say hello to the prince. He probably doesn't remember me. Umm…" She trailed off uncertain of what she was trying to articulate.

Luckily enough for Sakura, her self-appointed caretaker understood what she was fearing. "Sakura-chan. Don't trouble yourself over those other girls. Believe in yourself and everything will be okay."

And so it was that the very next night, Fai escorted his pseudo-daughter to the festival. _This_ is where our story truly begins.


	2. Chapter 1 - Festival

Chapter 1 - Festival

Striped festival tents were set up in the square just outside the main castle gates and smaller vendor tables sprawled into the side streets as far away as the Wholly Sweet Bakery on one side and the Green Leaf Apothecary on the other. Musicians stood practicing their trade in small groups every few blocks but the murmur of hundreds of excited citizens made it difficult to hear the songs unless you stood close by. Acrobats walked amongst the festivalgoers and there were game tables with their officials calling out to the crowd to come and give their particular game a try – "win a prize for your lady."

The air was filled with a great blend of scents from all the foods available. Individual smells were impossible to differentiate, but the mix was enticing enough. It was the only good thing about this ridiculous festival in Kurogane's mind. A plate of steamed pork dumpling wouldn't go amiss. In fact, he probably deserved them in light of all the work he was going to be putting in on this night.

The prince was to be protected, of course. That was a given. But he wasn't to be crowded either. The fewest bodyguards possible were to accompany him this evening so as not to scare off any potential suitors or interrupt the prince's conversations with any of the girls he may choose to speak with. In the end, it turned out that Kurogane was to be the prince's only accompaniment. There was no telling why the King was allowing this foolishness to continue, but that was a whole other matter.

They left the castle through a side port – the both of them wearing non-descript commoner style clothing – and walked around to the festival to avoid attracting more attention than necessary. Not everyone would know the prince on sight and the fewer people there were calling out to him, the better.

Prince Syaoran led the way as per their orders. The problem was that he wasn't particularly… enthusiastic about his role either. He was supposed to be on some sort of girl scoping expedition but the nature of that was contradictory to his personality. He wasn't the kind of person to judge others purely on appearance and he tended to be a bit shy anyway.

Instead of talking with girls, he walked about with a slight blush on his cheeks for nearly 15 minutes before deciding he was going to give his hand at one of the games. It was then that he was first recognized.

The girl rushed up to him, practically knocking him over in the process. Then she bent over in an attempt to retrieve her hat which she had lost in the near miss only to lose her balance and finish the job by sending them both sprawling on the ground. "I-I'm so sorry!"

Yeah right. Kurogane wasn't buying that innocent act for one second. No one was that much of a klutz. Then again, she had to be pretty stupid if she thought that kind of behavior was going to earn herself the kid's heart.

"Are you alright Miss?" Then again, the prince was notoriously naïve.

This girl wasn't someone Kurogane recognized. She had long, light brown hair tied into twin braids on opposite sides of her head and a fair amount of shoulder length hair left free about her face. Kurogane never had understood why women took so much care with their hair. It had to be an inconvenience having to style it like that every day. Just taking into consideration the time it would take to wash that much hair meant it couldn't be worth it.

If Kurogane had thought that Syaoran was blushing before this mess, then there must be a whole different word to describe the boy's face now. The girl's face was red as well as she removed her body from the prince's.

"I really am so sorry. It's just that there is something I have to do and I'm… wait. Aren't you…"

Oh no, here it comes.

"Aren't you able to stand up?"

Okay, maybe this girl really was oblivious.

"Ah, yes. Sorry." The prince proved his words by picking himself off the ground and dusting his clothes off with his hands. "But more importantly, are you alright?"

"Me? Yes! I'm fine. Thank you."

"What was that you were saying? There's something you have to do?"

"That's right! There is a game I have to win. They have a prize that I can use to get somewhere I need to go."

"This game here?"

Maybe it would be best if the kid just stuck with this girl after all. At the very least, she wasn't drawing attention to his charge's social standing. They were going to have to suffer through these events until Syaoran developed feelings for someone in particular and while from his mannerisms, this girl so far was not the one, the key word in this whole thing was "develop." The Royal Council seemed to think that the kid would just set eyes on a girl and instantly fall madly in love with her. That just isn't the way things work. Feelings that actually mean something take time to grow. It wasn't just going to happen in a few hours spent at a stupid festival.

The two conversed a short while longer – apparently, the thing she was after was some stupid bottle – and in the end, Syaoran decided he was going to help this girl win the game. She had to do it all by herself though, she said, and so as she picked up the palm sized wooden rings she needed for the game, Syaoran could only help by offering encouragement and advice.

The player was meant to toss the rings into a field of milk bottles. Certain bottles were color coated to win a specific level of prize. In the very middle of the play table however, was a different kind of bottle than the rest. It had a stopper with some sort of bird decorating it. That was the bottle she just had to win and all she had to do was get her ring around the neck of the bottle.

The girl was hopeless though. Rings would clatter to the ground or in the space between bottles, having been flung too far one way or the other.

Kurogane surveyed the area for potential threats while the girl continued in her attempts. There was a man he recognized as an ex-guardsman at the next booth over. He had just won the game and the little kid who was with him, an ambiguously dressed…boy?...with long hair, was picking out the prize. The kid chose a jeweled hair ornament and he immediately worked it into the leather thong that held his hair high on the back of his head. The "jewel" was probably just a piece of colored glass, but little kids never seemed to care about things like that.

When the shrieked words, "never ends!" pierced though the din of the crowd, Kurogane turned his head toward the booth selling those chocolate covered skewers of fruit and marshmallow where a normal looking girl was waiting in a overly long line of ladies clad in far too little. Kurogane shifted a bit to the left so he could read the sign – 'Zum Sticks,' that was it. The chocolate usually wasn't too sweet, but they would be a lot better if they left out the stupid marshmallows entirely. Kurogane had never been fond of marshmallows.

More importantly though, Kurogane hoped those ridiculous looking women realized they were all a bit too mature to be considered as a match for the prince. It seemed obvious with the kid's age, but there was definitely something odd about them. Who knew what they were thinking showing off their bodies in public like that.

The prince's voice drew him back from his observations. "Kobato-san, next time, try extending your arm more before you let go."

In the end, as much as Syaoran tried, he wasn't able to help in any meaningful fashion. The girl spent all her money and was still unable to win her prize.

"What are you going to do now?"

"I'll have to earn more money! Then I can try again!"

This girl's optimism was really something else.

"Excuse me Miss, did you say you were looking for work tonight?"

Everyone turned to see the speaker, a tall, thin, blond man with an annoyingly huge smile plastered across his face. He stood with one hand down at his side and the other at the back of his hip. The action pushed his pelvis forward just slightly and the man balanced the pose by arching his back subtlety in the opposite direction. His clothes were that of the upper middle class – boots to just below his knees, fitted pants, and a plain shirt with the tall collar left up. He even wore one of those frilly neckties that were so damn popular these days to fill the space over his collarbone. A businessman or a lowborn noble maybe.

Syaoran was blushing again for some unknown reason. Kurogane took a second look at the man and realized with a start that he had completely missed the young girl at his side. The girl was probably Syaoran's age and she too was blushing.

"We were just over at a food stand next to the Wishing Well. Their cook seemed quite frazzled. Maybe he could use extra help?"

The Wishing Well. Kurogane hated that place. It was kept up by a witch named Yuuko who loved to torment everyone she met with her cryptic manner of speech and her insistence that the item you were offering to the well was not sufficient to cover the cost of your wish. It was stupid anyway, you should work to make your desires come true, not just offer up payment and have your wish automatically granted.

If this newcomer was working a scheme to set his daughter up with the prince, he'd soon learn to regret his decision.

"Really? That's great! How do I get there?"

"Oh, you're not from around here? Well, we'll just have to show you the way, right Sakura-chan?"

"Ah! Right!" The new girl gave a curt nod of her head with the agreement.

If it had been Kurogane's decision, they were have left the klutz with the guy with the fake smile and been on their way. But it wasn't up to Kurogane. Syaoran was the one in charge of where they went and with whom.

As it turned out, Kurogane didn't have too much room to complain; the boy cooking beside the well was making pork dumplings and the witch was nowhere within view. Kurogane spoke to the stoic boy who was taking the orders while the rest of the group spoke with the cook.

As the blond had said, the kid really was spastic. He leaped around from one side of the cooking tent to the other, moving in ways Kurogane hadn't even realized were possible, though he supposed it wasn't entirely the boy's fault.

There was this bizarre, black…thing that was bouncing around getting into trouble. The cook tried to stop it, with little success.

Finally, the boy – Watanuki, apparently, was his name – captured the creature and held it tight while accepting Kobato's offer of help. He was willing to pay the girl out of his own pocket if she would just keep hold of the creature so that he could finish his work without further incident.

"Umm, Watanuki-san?" Sakura spoke up. "Can I ask, where did this creature come from?"

The boy glared at his co-worker, who in turn seemed to ignore him. "Some idiot won him and pawned him off on me."

"Oh? Which game was that? If they have more, I'll have to try."

"You want one of these? Why? They're such a pain!"

"I think that's only because you're so busy. It wants to play with you, but you don't have time. I think such an energetic creature would make a good companion in my home." She looked to her father, "Don't you agree?"

"Of course, Sakura-chan." Man, this guy was a real push over. If Kurogane had children, he would never agree to let them have such an obnoxious pet.

Soon after exchanging a few coins for his dinner, Kurogane found himself at one of the larger game tents. It was a long booth, but shallow and covered with an awning that extended a few feet past the waist high table lined with small bows. Five paces back from the table was a series of circular targets mounted on a makeshift wall. Kurogane refocused his attention as the game proprietor finished his explanation of the prizes.

"Only one left, young lady. It's a little different from the other one. White with a red jewel on its forehead, see? Its name is Soel. Very special. Very rare."

Kurogane looked at the creature, then down at his plate of dumplings. The similarities were uncanny. "How can that thing have a name? It's just a stupid pork bun."

Then the thing talked. "Mokona Modoki is _not_ a pork bun. Call me Mokona!"

Kurogane recovered quickly. "I thought your name was Soel."

"Only Mokona's special one calls Mokona by name. Are you Mokona's special one?"

"Hell no!"

To his side, the girl's father chuckled to himself. There wasn't much reason to laugh. He was the one that was going to have to deal with the thing if someone won the beast. That gave him a thought.

"Hey, kid," he addressed his charge, "why don't you help? You're archery is coming along well enough."

"Yes, Kurogane-san." Blushing again, Syaoran paid enough for three attempts and was handed three narrow shafted arrows in return. After testing the tension on the string of the bow he had chosen based solely on the fact that it was the closest to where he was standing, the prince's first arrow landed in the outer ring of the target near the bottom. The second was closer to the center, but having overcorrected, the arrow was this time in the top half of the target.

"Remember to clear your mind. Keep your weight even. Use your bones where you can instead of muscle. Slow your breathing. See the line between your arrow and your target."

The boy was good at following directions. After two false starts, his final arrow landed in the very center ring. A target only large enough to hold the arrow. A difficult shot, worthy of the top prize.

"Kurogane helps win Mokona!" The creature bounded off the game proprietor and attached itself to Kurogane's face.

"I didn't win you, you stupid pork bun! The kid did!" He reached up a hand to pull the thing off, but it stretched more than anything else. When he was finally able to rid his face of the horrible creature, he tossed the thing to the prince.

Syaoran looked at the thing, then shyly took a few steps over to Sakura and offered the thing to her. "Here, for you."

"Ah, I couldn't. You were the one that won it. It was your work. You keep it."

"No, it's ok. I want you to have it. I don't think my family would let me keep it anyway."

"Oh." She considered for a moment. "In that case, thank you!" The girl beamed. She had a large smile like her father, but unlike him, hers felt more genuine and Kurogane actual found himself thinking well of her.

While the kids talked with each other and played with the newly acquired pet, the girl's dad came over to his side.

"Mokona may technically be Sakura's now, but I have a feeling this isn't the last you've seen of it. It seems to have taken quite a liking to you."

It was a bit disturbing from this fake-smiles-guy, but his grin seemed to say, 'I can see why.'

"You sounded like a real archery expert back there. Are you a military man?"

"In a way, but archery isn't my strength." This was a topic Kurogane was more comfortable with.

"Oh and what is?"

"Swordsmanship."

"Is that right? Sounds impressive."

"I'm the best in the kingdom."

"Oh. Not modest at all, I see. You must be pretty confident in your skills. You'll have to show me sometime."

This guy's tone… They were both talking about warfare here, right? "I wouldn't count on that."

The guy only laughed. It was a sound that sent a shiver down Kurogane's spine.


	3. Chapter 2 - Tournament

Chapter 2 - Tournament

"Kurogane-san, do you have any advice for how to act in front of someone you want to like you?"

Kurogane looked up from sharpening his sword. It had been a surprise when the kid showed up at his quarters, especially considering he was supposed to be dining with the King - but now that he managed to get the question out, the unscheduled visit made sense. "You're talking about that girl with the crazy father aren't you?"

"Crazy father? Was there someone like that at the festival last night? I'm talking about Sakura, the girl I won Mokona for."

"That's the one. You should stay away from her; you don't want to get involved with a family like that!"

"Ummm. Kurogane-san, I think you might have the wro—"

A sharp rap at the door interrupted the prince's explanation and Kurogane yanked open the door with more force that was strictly necessary. The speed of the door seemed to startle the liveried man waiting in the hall outside. After letting out a startled sound, the servant proceeded with his duty. "M-message for you Ku-Kurogane-san."

"Out with it then."

The messenger composed himself with a couple of deep breaths before continuing. "Your honorable self is to be present before the Royal Council within this quarter hour."

The servant stood there waiting for a response, eyes going wide. Maybe it had something to do with the sneer on Kurogane's face. Dealing with the Council was the worst part of his job."You have delivered your message." With that, he slammed the door in the servant's face.

"Kurogane-san?" The prince knew as well as Kurogane what this meeting was to be about.

"Don't worry. I'll take care of it." Kurogane may or may not have growled on his way out of the room.

-x-

"It came to our attention that the young Prince Syaoran was in the company of a certain lady for the majority of the evening last night."

"He spent time with two girls."

"Yes, but he spent more time with one that the other. That girl with the long hair. What was her name Kurogane-san?"

"Kobato."

"I see. Next month we will hold another event. You will ensure that Prince Syaoran spends more time with that girl."

"That would be unwise."

Kurogane had meant to explain his disapproval, but the self-appointed council leader took the pause at the end of a sentence to interject. "Your job is not to _question_ the Council. Your job is to keep the Prince safe."

"And if this girl is not even there?"

The "chairman" adjusted his monocle. "You will find a way."

Kurogane knew the Council was made up of idiots, but really. If a person wasn't there than they weren't there. That's all there was to it. Were they expecting him to hunt the poor girl down? If they wanted Kurogane to further their objectives they'd have the prince spend more time with the girl whose father smiles too much.

The thought came then of the man's ridiculous necktie; his casual, self-assured posture; his chill inducing laugh.

Maybe it really was for the best to leave that family alone.

-x-

And so it was that the following month, an athletics tournament was held. The event began midmorning and continued on through twilight. There were running races and swimming races, gymnastics and archery, equestria, and even sword fights, though not many of the girls were choosing to participate in those. That fact didn't stop Syaoran from ending up in that area of the competition field.

Kurogane was the best swordsman in the kingdom and having been around the man for so much of his life, Syaoran had developed an interest in the skill. His bodyguard had only recently agreed to tutor him and the Prince was very keen on seeing others spar.

When there was an opening for a challenger, Syaoran managed to completely forget his current "mission" in favor of joining in the competition. Kurogane, for his part, had no problem with this. Getting in real practice with a sword was a far better use of the prince's time than girl gazing. Even if they _were_ under strict orders to be searching out the girl with the braids.

And really, the choice of an athletics tournament had to be a joke in that case. That girl couldn't even toss a ring onto a bottle a few paces away. She had the right amount of determination, so it was possible that she would come even knowing she had absolutely no chance of doing well in the events, but she'd seemed to be very set on winning that bottle and going wherever it was that she had to get to. Kurogane felt confident in his suspicions that the place she was after was _not_ the training fields.

Well, he could say they'd looked for her and she simply was not to be found. They had elected to spend their remaining time more judiciously.

The prince was allowed to select from a small range of wooded practice swords, then was fitted with basic protective gear for safety before stepping into the ten pace wide sparing ring outlined in white chalk. He first opponent was the winner of the previous round and the prince, after some initial fumbling, found his rhythm and managed a win.

Now it was time for a challenger to take on the prince. The boy who stepped forward was about the equal with the kid in age but had a vastly different attitude. While the prince looked at this round as good practice win or lose, the challenger seemed to give the spar equal importance to a real duel.

The fight started off evenly. Kurogane watched the prince for technique, noting where his footwork needed improving and when he took the defensive when a perfectly good opening for an offence was visible. They'd work on those issues in their next practice.

After the final point was scored, the challenger congratulated the prince perhaps too enthusiastically. "That was amazing! You're so strong! I practice and practice so that I can get stronger – like my mom. She's really great! You should see her fight." The kid went on and on. And when Syaoran managed to get in a word, it was only to compliment the other boy.

When no other challengers stepped forward, Syaoran and his new friend decided they would allow others to start a new string of matches. The two hit it off well and though Kurogane had no qualms about the prince making a friend his own age – like any normal boy – he could just hear what the Council was going to make of this latest development. The klutz disappears and the prince immediately befriends a boy in his grief. It was ridiculous.

The prince was introducing Kurogane, not as his bodyguard, but as a mentor, when the scene before them erupted into a fit of insanity.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, did you know that right here before your very eyes, is one of this country's finest swordsmen? Wouldn't you all like to see this fine fellow show you his skills? 'Yes!' I hear you cry. And to your voices, I add my own! 'But who would be willing to fight such a skilled man,' you ask. To see him in action, I will humbly take up that position myself!"

That rat! He was _anything_ but humble. And now there really was a crowd and even the prince and his horrible new friend were saying, come on Kurogane, why not? It will do us novices good to see a master in action.

"Mokona will cheer for Fai and Kurogane!"

"You pest!" The thing was jumping up and down on his head. "You can't cheer for both parties in a two-person match."

"Mokona will. Good luck, Kurogane! Do your best, Fai!"

Knowing further resistance was useless, Kurogane deposited the pork bun with the prince, then went to sift though the wooden swords. He tested out a few before making his final selection. His opponent however, took the first one he set eyes on. Not a good indication of a challenging match to come.

Despite his protesting that he didn't need any of the padding, the event volunteers laced on the guards. Rules were rules they said, no matter who you were. It didn't help that the official was a woman he worked with. She didn't say anything, but Kurogane could tell she was getting a kick out of the whole situation.

Once the participants' gear was deemed satisfactory, the two readied themselves on opposite sides of the fight circle. "I'm not here to show off, but don't think I'm going to take it easy on you just because you put yourself into this."

"That's right. You're just here to watch over Syaoran-kun, right?" What the hell did this guy know about it? "Well, I think it would do you good to get away from that for a few minutes."

The guy probably thought it would be good to let the kid be alone with his daughter for a few minutes, more like. Though it was hardly something to be worried about seeing as the girl didn't seem to take after her father when it came to subversiveness.

With all this in mind, Kurogane was surprised when the creep launched the initial attack and managed to very nearly score a clean hit, and the corresponding two points, in the first three seconds. It was a pleasant surprise actually. The man wasn't all fake smiles and ridiculous antics after all. After narrowly managing to block the offensive, Kurogane refocused and poured his concentration into the task of defeating his opponent.

Their round drug on far longer than Kurogane had expected. His challenger was unusually quick and Kurogane had a hard time landing a single blow as the other man ducked and sidestepped effortlessly away from his every attack. Considering that level of defensive maneuvering, the strangest thing was that the man didn't have many offensive skills or if he did, decided not to make use of them – not after that first strike. It was annoying as hell. With that kind of speed, surely the man could have bested him by now. Why didn't he?

With only seconds left before a draw would be declared, Kurogane finally landed a glancing blow across his challenger's left hand. It was a strange hit. He'd been angry with how the other man wasn't even trying to score a point. He'd put a lot of force behind the swing completely expecting the other man to dodge. And he did, just not quite as fast as he had been. The wooden sword hit the top of his unprotected hand and the force of the blow carried the hit down across the knuckles. Not a clean hit, but still enough to cause pain. The blond dropped the sword in reaction and Kurogane earned not just the one point for the glancing blow, but also 5 for disarming his opponent.

The crowd cheered his win, but Kurogane was not pleased. He had a sneaking suspicion of why this hit had landed when the rest had not, and he didn't like it.

By the time Kurogane was stripped of his protective gear, he found that the kid was floundering his side of the conversation with the creep's daughter.

"Would you like to come watch? I'll do my best not to let you down." The poor girl was doing her best to entreat him, not realizing the source of his non-commitment. The kid was so easy to read. Blushing like he'd never seen a girl in a bathing suit before. Or maybe it was just the case that he'd never seen this particular girl so scantily clad.

The prince eventually managed a nod of his head as his reply.

It was just as they were leaving that a new round of sparring began. The first contender was the same ex-guardsman that Kurogane had noticed at the last event. The man's opponent, an ambiguously dressed…young man?...also looked familiar. The similarities with the child from before were unmistakable. They must be related. The oddest thing though, was the glint of familiar cheap glass from the young man's hair.

The swimming events were being held in the small lake that bordered the training fields on the south. Seeing as the sparring was being held on the north side of the fields, Kurogane had to follow the annoying father and his daughter along with the prince, past nearly all of the other contests.

As they passed one of the racecourses, Kurogane noticed those odd women who seemed to get a kick out of displaying all of their bodies but those parts that would get them thrown in jail for showing. They were all lagging behind the leader of the race, a more sanely dressed girl who, by the look on her face, wouldn't likely keep the lead for long. Kurogane took a glance at the course marked out ahead of her. With no finish line in sight, the girl let out the complaint of "never ends!" Kurogane held no sympathy for her. If she didn't like that the course was so long, she shouldn't have entered the event in the first place.

They arrived at the lake with only a few minutes to spare. The girl striped off her outer layers of clothes to reveal her swimwear – her father neatly folding the garments over his arm for safekeeping – pulled her hair back as much as possible with a brightly colored piece of string, and went to take her place at the start line. The prince called out to her as she left – a hearty "do your best, Sakura!"

After the officiator's, "Swimmers: at the ready….GO!" the race began and the kid worked his way to the front of the bystanders so that he could get a better view of the race. Kurogane was tall enough that he could still keep an eye on the kid without having to move. Unfortunately, the swimmer's dad was also tall enough that he could watch his daughter from where he stood, directly to Kurogane's right.

The positioning allowed Kurogane a good look at the other man's injured hand. Small beads of blood were drying across his knuckles, deep blue bruises were already sprouting up all along the back of his hand, and it looked like there might even be some swelling near the index finger where the sword first hit. For all that, the man didn't utter a word of complaint. His face didn't betray him either, but it was obvious that he had to be in pain. Kurogane refused to feel guilty.

The swim course was triangular in shape. Competitors started on land at the lake's edge, swam diagonally away from shore toward an anchored row boat equip with a large yellow flag, turned left and swim to another boat, rounded the second marker and headed back to shore where they had started.

Kurogane managed to hold off until the leader was past the first course marker before he commented. "You did that on purpose."

"What's this? What is Kuro-champ saying?"

"What did you just call me? 'Kuro-ch—'" He choked on the word.

"Kurogane is the winner right? The champion. It makes sense to call him Kuro-champ."

"Don't _ever_ call me that again."

"Okay then. I'm sure there are plenty of other appropriate names for you. But what was that you were saying? I did something on purpose?"

"Earlier. You could have dodged those attacks all day. I don't appreciate being made a fool of."

"I'm afraid you've got it all wrong. I wasn't making a fool of you."

"What would you call it then?"

"I was merely highlighting your fine skills. For the audience, of course."

"I don't need any help from you."

"In that case, you have my sincerest apologies. You'll have to let me make up for this grievous error."

"I'll pass." Kurogane didn't fail to notice the smug little grin on the bastard's face.

"If you say so, Kuro-win."


	4. Chapter 3 - Run-In

Chapter 3 – Run-In

"I need to return this book to the library first, Kurogane-san."

The grass still hadn't recovered from the trampling it took during the tournament the week prior, but they were headed out to the training fields anyway for the day's instruction. They were a few minutes ahead of schedule and a stop by the library wouldn't cut into their allotted training time. Kurogane grunted his assent. "It's on the way."

Kurogane had never spent much time in the library. The place was just a dusty repository of information he didn't need. If it was something he did need, no doubt there was a better way to learn of it – through experience. It felt a bit like cheating to just be given all the answers by someone who had so little to do that they had the time to write it down. Still, he was a dutiful bodyguard and followed the prince into the well-lit chamber. There hadn't been an incident worthy of his attention within the palace grounds as long as he'd worked for the royal family, but habits are hard things to break. He glanced side-to-side looking for anything out of the ordinary when he stopped short. The prince continued ahead and deeming him safe for the time being, Kurogane turned to check on what had caught his eye.

That lithe blond had himself seated at a table covered with books, scrawling a bit here and there in a writing tablet. The man was absorbed enough in his work that he didn't give any indication of noticing Kurogane's approach. It gave him enough time to take in the man's whole appearance. More specifically, time to note the presence of an elbow high glove on the man's left hand. The matching glove hung with a mid-length jacket across the back of an extra chair. Both the gloves and the jacket were typical of the clothing worn by the lower nobles in court, but Kurogane suspected the gloves had less to do with fashion and more to do with recent events.

He stared at the gloved hand, wondering just how bad it looked since the man felt the need to cover it. He dismissed the thought. It was the other man's fault he was injured in the first place.

"You don't have a better place to spend your time than this stuffy library?"

"Ah, Kuro-spar!" The man replied without the slightest hesitation or surprise. Apparently Kurogane's presence hadn't gone undetected after all. That nearly irritated him as much as the new nickname.

"My name is Kurogane!" He managed to grind the words out through clenched teeth. He'd known that this was a bad idea. This man was nothing but an annoyance. He deserved whatever injuries he hid behind that glove! It did nothing to help his mood that Kurogane inwardly winced at the viciousness of his own thoughts.

"Of course it is. That's what I said, isn't it?"

Kurogane refused to be further baited. "What's so interesting that you feel the need to have enough books to cover the whole table?"

This, on the other hand, caught the other man off guard. He didn't fumble his words, but his expression faltered briefly. A long, dark frown slipped in between two of those ridiculous grins that surely no one took for a sign of true happiness.

"I'm researching local myths." With that bare minimum answer out of the way, the man moved to change the subject. Kurogane wasn't fooled by the evasion but went along with it anyway. "And what are you doing here when you so obviously don't have the taste for the written word?"

"I'm on my way to train the kid. He just needed to return a book."

"Hmm. I see. But shouldn't you be referring to the prince properly here?"

Well, that confirmed one suspicion. Both this man and his daughter knew who the kid really was. Somehow, it wasn't as awful as he'd expected. The prince really did seem to enjoy spending time with this man's daughter. It wasn't as though he was being cajoled into anything.

Kurogane ignored the question. "How's your hand?"

"It's nothing." The man said it with a smile.

"Then why the covering?"

"Ah." The man placed his good hand over the back of the gloved hand as though to further hide evidence of his injury. "Sakura-chan worries about things she shouldn't. It truly is nothing."

Kurogane wasn't sure if he could be any more irritated than he already was. "If she's worried, it's because she cares about you!" He didn't like what that said about him and his preoccupation with the injury. Kurogane didn't miss the second slip in the man's grin in as many minutes.

"Ah. Of course, you're right, Kuro-smart!"

"Well, let's see it then."

"That's not necessary." The man's voice changed then, turned cold. "I've already said it's nothing."

"Then you won't mind showing me." He didn't wait for the blond to reply, instead he grabbed the man's wrist and tugged the glove off himself. Something in the back of his head told him that manhandling someone he had known for such a short time was incredibly rude. He didn't listen.

The sight that greeted his eyes was no less than he expected. The swelling at the base of the index finger was worse than the day of the injury. The bruising had spread too but had begun to fade to yellow-brown around the edges. "Well, let's see you wiggle your fingers then."

"Hmm?"

Kurogane realized belatedly that the man hadn't struggled through his rough treatment or complained about the closeness. His mouth went dry and he had to clear his throat before he could speak properly.

"Move your fingers to make sure nothing's broken."

The three fingers closest to Kurogane moved freely, but a quiet "ah!" accompanied the stillness of the index finger. Kurogane used his free hand to still the uninjured fingers before prompting, "Try again."

"Does Kuro-sama have medical training? You're very knowledgeable about these things."

"Just field experience. I said to try again."

"Ah, but Kuro-doc, I _am_ trying." The finger barely moved.

Kurogane was not pleased. Not with the nickname and not with the severity of the limitations in range of motion. "You need to see a healer. There's likely a broken bone. You need to have someone make sure it's healing properly. You don't want any permanent damage from this." Kurogane stopped short of poking around to find the exact placement of the break. And he wasn't happy about the reason he did that either.

Kurogane forestalled argument by adding, "You said you would make up for your insult at the sparring. See a healer."

The man smiled at him then, a different kind of smile than he normally used. This one was barely there. It looked a little sad and just a bit fond.

"Kuro-sama is very kind."

Kind? That should have been enough to reaffirm the whole "idiot" conclusion.

"Ah! Fai-san." The prince picked that moment to return from his errand. Kurogane could only hope the boy hadn't heard the man's accusation. He had a reputation to uphold after all.

The blond stood then, swept his hat from his head, stepped back with his right leg and with a smooth movement, performed a bow in a style Kurogane had never seen. The hat made a short arch down to the man's heart while he bent a respectable amount at the waist as to indicate that he truly did have at least some noble blood in his ancestry. "Prince Syaoran, a pleasure to see you here."

The prince smiled at the level of formality afforded to him for the first time by this man. "Will you and Sakura-chan be coming to next month's event?"

"Of course. Sakura-chan is looking forward to the opportunity to see you again." The man had enough sense to continue and not rely on the now embarrassed but pleased prince to carry on the conversation. (Based on the subtle glaze in the kid's eyes, he was probably reliving that moment, with the girl stumbling up to him, her third place age group medal around her neck but held up in one hand for him to see, tired smile in place, still out of breath and dripping wet, pronouncing, 'I put in my full effort.') "Have you been informed as to the nature of our next entertainment?"

This was a topic Kurogane did not want to dwell on. The prince let out a soft cough as though he knew something but wasn't in the position to share, so Kurogane answered for him. "I'm betting the Council has something horrible in mind."


	5. Chapter 4 - Show

Chapter 4 – Show

"They've gone too far this time."

As Kurogane predicted, the Royal Council of Advisors was displeased that the prince had elected to spend so much of his time watching the sparring at the tournament the previous month. The fact that he'd also gone to the only event where all the female competitors were more than half naked seemed to have been lost completely – along with any acknowledgement of the nobleman's daughter.

Punishment came in the form of the next event. On schedule, one month after the tournament, was a fashion show. Yes, that's right, a complete afternoon dedicated to frills and finery.

Kurogane growled at no one in particular. If a kid with strange, beady little eyes looked over at him with something akin to fear before grabbing his younger brother's hand (they were practically twins, same creepy eyes and everything) and scampering off… Well, it _was_ part of his job to look intimidating.

According to the Council, the event was tailored to help the prince met the maximum number of girls. He was to sit in a private box and watch as the participants showed off the work of the local seamsmiths, cobblers, milliners, and a select few haberdashers (there for the sake of balance and _not_, as the Council put it, _to encourage the Prince to ogle the boys_.) When a girl caught his eye, Kurogane was supposed to mark down the girl's entry number so the prince could talk to her after her part in the show was finished.

This, of course, would not happen. The kid would spend half the time averting his gaze and the other half blushing hard enough to resemble a beet. When the Council found out, as they inevitably would, there would be hell to pay – though what could be worse than an idiotic fashion show was a mystery.

The only alternative was to spend the entirety of the event down on the same level as the rest of the participants. Maybe they'd run into someone the kid already knew – that would make things much easier. Kurogane had no desire to spend the whole afternoon actually watching the damn show.

Another of the prince's bodyguards, Souma, had helped with the planning for this escapade in that she'd managed to round up a body double for the prince. The kid looked nothing like him. The boy did, however, look exactly like the cook who made those delicious dumplings a few months back. It worked well enough just the same. Girls pointed and giggled in the direction of the private box with the princely silhouette.

They hadn't been there 5 minutes when a girl with long black hair passed them carrying a large suitcase. A short while later, the girl was passing them again going back the way she'd come – this time, minus the case. Syaoran was just milling around, unsure of the best course of action when the girl passed them again with another case.

The next time she came back, Syaoran called out to ask if she could use some help. The girl was thankful for the assistance and as the three worked their way back to her cart, she explained that she was one of the designers for the event and that she planned to document her debut with photographs if she could manage to find a model suitable enough. Her cases contained her fabric creations and all her photography equipment.

Kurogane ended up carrying the camera itself due to its size and weight. He'd seen a picture machine before, but never so close up.

After about fifteen minutes, the girl had all her equipment in place and ready for use. The timing worked out well for her because the day's main feature was just getting started. The surprising thing was that she didn't immediately begin taking pictures. The special plates that had to be used in the device were hard to come by she said and she couldn't afford to waste them if the picture wasn't going to turn out correctly. And so, while she waited for the perfect model to present itself among the girls on stage, she showed the prince how the camera worked.

Kurogane wasn't terribly interested. That it did what it did was enough knowledge for him. He had no desire to use one or to have his own picture taken, so there wasn't much use in paying attention as the girl spoke.

The boy announcing the event was using an odd device that amplified his voice so that he could speak at a normal volume and still be heard above the din of the crowd. Unlike the photography equipment, this machine was something Kurogane had not seen before. He took a minute to listen.

"Speaking of fashion history, even in the past, clothing was more than just a means for modesty and warmth. Did you know that primitive peoples first wore simple one-piece robes? They believed these garments warded off evil spirits. And that is the true origin of the word _ward_robe."

On the stage, a flat chested young woman with blond hair showed off a slightly boyish style of common wear while constantly being harassed by a small, pudgy, winged, childlike…_thing_ flying around the model's head. And why not? If that annoying marshmallow could exist, why not flying devil babies?

Next up was a pair displaying his and hers eveningwear. The "woman" was equally as flat chested as the last model but Kurogane was pretty sure that was due to the fact that this one really was a boy. From the scowl on his face, he had obviously been forced into the poufy monstrosity of a dress he was wearing. The thing was twice as wide as the boy was himself. He had to hold his hand noticeably away from his body in order to accept the assistance of his partner.

The other guy (whom Kurogane recognized as the young man who'd filled a report with the guard about a missing sister) seemed to be getting a kick out of his companion's discomfort, though honestly, his clothes left some room for improvement too. He wore a military style jacket with polished gold buttons over a laced white shirt, which was all very well and fine, but also tight pants and boots up past his knees – merchant class fashion. That barely had time to grate on Kurogane's nerves when, thankfully, he was distracted by a somewhat familiar voice yelling a somewhat familiar pair of words.

The yell came from the direction of the dressing tents. It was followed by several pieces of fabric being toss out of the third tent from the left, which was guarded by a pair of women in a new style of swimsuit, a suit that was in two pieces to show off an indecent amount of skin. Likely, the designer of their clothing was working on a new creation and didn't want her ideas stolen. The royal military engineers were like that whenever they were working on improvements to the King's siege machines.

The show dragged on and Kurogane found his mind wandering. It wasn't that he was letting his guard down; he continued with his visual observations but his thoughts drifted, first to what training he had planned for himself the next day, next to what he would teach the prince, then, unexpectedly, he thought of _that guy_.

Why was he thinking of him?

It must be because, if previous trends held, he would show up right about now with some bold proclamation that was sure to be annoying beyond belief.

Yes, that was the only reason.

It couldn't possibly have anything to do with the fact that the guy had been surprisingly skilled in battle, or how he managed to ignore obvious injuries, or that despite how much of a fool he made himself out to be, he was obviously much more calculating. Despite all the focus placed on attire on this day, it certainly couldn't have anything to do with the way that the guy made the ridiculous merchant class fashions seem…not so ridiculous.

This time, it was not that annoying father that broke the serenity of the moment, it was the photographer girl. Halfway through the day's main event, she let out a horrible squeal of delight and bolted away at high speed. It was the kind of sound Kurogane had been expecting from masses of girls at the sight of the prince until he realized that no one seemed to recognize the kid when he wasn't dressed like royalty.

It only took a moment to see what she was running toward. That _guy! _Or, more specifically, he corrected a split second later, his daughter, complete with the pork bun on her shoulder. Either way, upon reaching the father-daughter pair, the photographer clasped the other girl's hands in her own and even from Kurogane's safe distance, he could see that she was positively gushing over the now bewildered girl. After a few minutes, the fawned over girl looked up at her father who merely nodded and then the photographer was dragging her new subject along toward her equipment.

"Oh, Kuro-med. I didn't see you there." The mutilation of his name was just as horrible as all the others but there was a lack of enthusiasm behind it. Instead of indulging his curiosity at the oddity, Kurogane left it alone and thanked his good luck that the lanky man didn't seem to be his usual overly chipper, annoying as hell self.

The man's left hand was wrapped in neat, overlapping strips of bandages. He'd obviously been to the healer as instructed. Kurogane was honor bound now to forgive the man's actions at the spar. He sighed. Nothing good came from holding onto grudges anyway.

Not feeling obligated to verbally acknowledge his forgiveness, he kept his eyes averted from the man's hand and pretended he hadn't noticed. Instead, he merely slid to the left end of the bench he'd been sitting on and allowed the nobleman a seat next to him in the shade.

For once, the other man wasn't feeling chatty, so they sat in a comfortable silence and watched as the man's daughter was bustled in and out of a small, round dressing tent. Each time she came out, she was wearing a more ridiculous costume than the last, though somewhere in the deep recesses of his mind, Kurogane had to admit that the outfits did have a certain quality to them that suited the girl. He refused to acknowledge that trait as 'cute.'

"Those two seem to be getting along well."

"I'm glad Sakura has made another friend. And a fellow girl this time too. Girls her age should have a friend of the same gender."

"What does gender matter?"

"Oh, nothing in and of itself. It's just that boys and girl have different ways of seeing the world sometimes. Their brains work differently. And I want her to have a broad support system."

"You make it sound as though she's going to need one soon."

"You never know what's going to happen. She could wake up tomorrow to find me gone."

"You're a bit morbid today."

"Ah, that wasn't how I meant that." Unsatisfied with the way the conversation was going, the nobleman took the opportunity to point out how the prince was being pushed into taking a picture while the designer directed Sakura in how to position her body for the proper pose. "Syaoran-kun certainly is amusing to watch as well."

His deflection didn't fool Kurogane. He grunted his agreement at the statement – now the photographer was insisting that the kid tell the girl just how wonderful she looked in the latest outfit and he was having problems getting the words out – and returned the talk to where it belonged. "How _did_ you mean the comment then?"

The guy ignored him, fixed his eyes on the kids, but looked through them. This level of seriousness…he'd never seen it from this guy before but suddenly, Kurogane understood. This moroseness wasn't unusual, wasn't strange at all for this man. Just like he'd tried to hide his broken hand with a glove, it was what he hid with those ridiculous grins. Though Kurogane hadn't thought it possible, his loathing for the fake smiles grew.

"Hiding your problems doesn't make them go away."

That got his attention. The man looked back at him, studied his face a moment, but couldn't hold his gaze. He dropped his head. "Kurogane is very wise."

Only this man could make him grit his teeth at his own name being properly pronounced.

"If only Sakura-chan's parents were still alive…"

Kurogane gave a start, realizing he'd made some bad assumptions. Thinking about it now, the girl did look a bit old to be his biological daughter. It didn't matter. The way he watched after her, he obviously thought of her as family.

"She still has you."

"I should go check on Sakura-chan." His voice was flat, as though what he'd said instead was 'for now.' The guy stood and took off in that direction without another word.

"Hey!" He grabbed the man's arm before he got too far away. "Don't go doing anything stupid. " With a man like this, a man who would allow himself to be injured for no good reason, a command wasn't good enough. "That girl needs you."

The guy covered his face with a grin that couldn't penetrate his eyes. "Ah, Kuro-keen, you don't need to worry. You know me!"

They'd only met a couple of months ago, but… "Idiot. That's what has me worried."

The smile faltered an instant before it was renewed with increased determination. The sight caused Kurogane's fists to clench.


End file.
